Cloud Hunting Season
by Smiley-chan
Summary: So, that is how I came to my present situation. Idiot woman in pink, crappy room in Greek hotel, annoying one wing with feathers that make me sneeze.' Sephirothcentric. A peek at the musings of the onewingedangel during his brief or so we think visit to K
1. Goodbye Midgar, Hello Literal Hell

Nope. Still dun own it...Neither KH or FF. If I did...ohoho...such things I would do.

Sephiroth-centric. Slight OOCness (or not so slight). Slight character bashing...everyone gets theirs. Final Fantasy 7 references. :3 enjoy.

**-Cloud Hunting Season: **Chapter One

By: Smiley-chan

Here she comes...again. I slam my head against the metaphorical wall. She keeps getting closer, with those huge...green...puppy-dog eyes. As I look around me, I notice the lack of escape. Its too late to run, there is no hiding. Dear-god-mother-jenova-fudge-sickles. If I ignore her she may go away...right?

I can just see the creepy sun-shiny smile grow wider as she approaches. Im sure that this creature must have to file her teeth, seeing as they must have once been viciously pointed. I don't know where she stashed the pitchfork and horns, and Im not completely sure I want to. As she taps my shoulder, I shudder, reluctantly turning to face the eyes that are so bright and wide that they look quite like a happier variation of a deer caught in the headlights of a truck that's about to splatter her remains over the roadside. Heheh. If only...if only.

As her predatory instinct recognizes the smell of ripe fear, she pounces. "Sephy!" she squeals, somehow finds the easiest possible way to lock her arms almost unbreakably around my middle. Again with the nickname. I don't know where the boldness comes from. Usually, its "General, sir!" for fear of decapitation. Call me by my real name and you may be lucky. But to shorten it, and add an "y"! Woman, you may die a second death. "Where have you been? I mean, I was looking all over! I have something important to tell you! "

Could disgruntlement be written more plainly on my face, I would be certain to try. But seeing as this creature is unable to comprehend anything slightly unhappy, such as spite and revenge, it has become quite pointless to point out her lack of perception. Me being the spite part, and her the vengeance. Why?

Anyone who is familiar story may have heard, that in my past world, there had been a rather large power conspiracy kept underground, that had only begun to leak into the public. For them it was something akin to, 'omg! the power company is killing the planet, lets rebel!'. Frankly, I couldn't care less about the fate of the planet, since I had my own agenda to attend to, that guess what: had to do with destroying the planet! That's a villain sundae with a cherry on top. Long story short, thought I was heir to the planet by blood rights, wanted to kill humans, and become a god. What's wrong with that? Well, apparently a spiky-haired nuisance from my past thought there was, and gathered his little fan-club to go 'save the day' or something to that affect. Insert a dignified snort here. Like I'm about to let that happen.

So I make my random appearances, maiming and dismembering along the way, until something occurred to be that had never before. His little flower girl friend and/or mad crush by the name of Aeris Gainsborough was, oh-my-goodness, of the same ancient heritage that I apparently was . Goodness, it's an Ancient. But she wasn't really warming up to the idea of destroying the rest of the human-race-blood-traitors. In fact I don't think she liked me very much. I don't see why though, I mean look at me! Well...that's besides the point.

She was the 'key' to putting a stop to my wonderfully dastardly plans or so they said. Who are 'they'? Well...right. She was praying and stuff, trying to get the special shiny thing that was to kick my ass, but once again I, the Great Sephiroth was one step ahead. Okay, so I panicked and shoved my kantana through her back. Served its purpose I suppose. I kicked her a few times to make she was really, you know, dead. As I suspected, lying limp and breathless in a puddle of your own blood is a pretty good indicator of expiration. Good thing it was funny. I mean I got a good long maniacal cackle out of it. Spiky-head might of cried, but his emotions lend little importance to my tale, besides he was rather pissed with me and proceeded by catching me later and dicing my flesh into finger-food sized cubes.

He had gotten an unfair advantage of course, me just coming out of the shower at the bottom of a large crater when he decides to pop in for a visit, leaving my dearest mummy to scream into my brain "fetch the masumune imbecile! And put on a shirt!" Well. I never got around to the second one... got my ass kicked for the first time ever, my spirit returned to the planet, where my story had met its closing. Or so everyone thought.

As fate would have it, a bunch of ant-shaped shadow creatures, which I now know to be called heartless, attacked less than two days later. Excellent timing if I do say so myself. They sent people into a panic, screaming and such while they ate at the planet, chucked it up again, and then stomped on it for good measure. They ate people's hearts too...that might be important. While there, they're leader...who's name I have only memorized so I may descend upon him with my supreme rage, obviously visited the headquarters of Shinra, where my lovely lovely portrait hangs in the hallway. And hearing of me, and seeing my almost captured grace in paint, he thought 'Hmm. This guy ish teh awesomeness.'... then of course Ansem flew into a jealous rage of my supreme sexiness. I cannot blame him, but pull yourself together man! Just because you're more of a minority than I, don't go crazier than I too! But that, of course, was where Ansem crossed the metaphorical line. After successfully erasing the very existence of our planet, he went home to that absurd castle of his and...and...and...stole my look! Bitch! Unforgivable bastard! I hope your new whitish hair falls out! I wish for you bleach induced nightmares! And to steal my sexy open-chested clothing. The nerve of some people. God... if writing with emotes wasn't so unprofessional I'd do this: XP

Anyway, the planets gone, leaving the dead people dead, the eaten people heartless and dead, and then there are the precious few who managed to escape the chaos long enough who miraculously got transported to another world where they took castaways. And here I am...floating in nothingness, cause there is no longer a planet to be resting in and thinking, 'Well, isn't this grand?'. That is until whoever runs the space-time continuum and/or universe was all 'Well, this won't do will it? This planets dead people have no place to be all dead-like. What'll we do with 'em?' It took them a couple minutes to ponder this. And pondered some more. Finaly, after some very heavy duty pondering, it came to a conclusion...

"Well, considering the place they just came from, why not chuck 'em into somewhere else's underworld?"

I found myself hurtling through space at speeds that royally screwed up my hair, and finally crash landed on hard ground. Hard being the essential adjective. I was not able to view my surroundings immiediatly, due to the fact that I was face down and eating dirt. Quite literally.After sitting up and spitting out the soil, I looked up into the face of a very blue man.

When I say blue, I do not mean in a depressed, Squall-like way. I mean azure, periwinkle and any other way that one may describe a creature that is literally...blue. Tongues of _blue _fire flickered upon what would otherwise be a very bald head. I suppose this was meant to serve as hair of some sort. Talk about a dry scalp...heheh. Sorry. Anyway, lets say that his middle-aged figure failed to impress. I don't like him. Nope. Not at all. Especially for what he did next.

"Hey, sup? Name's Hades, Lord of the dead, blah blah etcetera and so forth. And you are-?" I opened my mouth to speak, but I ended up closing it seeing as he never shut up. "Oh, I know ya, yur Sephiroth. That...guy...with...silver hair. And likes little blonde kids...or something." Imagine the biggest twitch you can. Then multiply it by the largest number you can fit on a calculator. Insert that into your mental image of my face after that last statement.

"Indeed, I am Sephiroth, though how you know this is a complete mystery to me. As for my hair, I don't think it would take much for a person possesing eyes to discover its color. And I...do not...like little...blonde kids!" The image of my little puppet...also known as Cloud Strife, was the first to make my brain scream to be washed out.

"Riiiiight, so anyways, I guess your planet blew up, which is really a bummer an all, but unfortunately... you have gotta go. All these extra people are clogging up my underworld, and I have no room for you and Miss Sunshine over there." I turned around to face the direction of the person he was talking about. A small distance away, trying perkily to engage a dead soul in conversation, stood the most vile woman in the universe.

She seemed a tad bit baffled as to why the soul of her dear departed boyfriend Zack did not respond to her incessant chatter, and looked in my general direction. Her eyes became impossibly wide. I could almost hear her thoughts in that one panicked moment. It went something like... "Oh dear! Why! Must I be tormented by you even in death?" Hades signaled for her to approach, and she did, though hesitantly. Her eyes kept shifting between the blue thing and me. Stuck between to potentially evil psychopaths, she really had nothing she could do besides do a swan-dive into the river Styx and swim for her life. Apparently that thought didn't cross her mind. And...you...know...it _never _crossed mine either.

"Righty, then," Hades began interlacing his fingers like a particularly shady car-salesman in the slums of Midgar. "Well. Seeing as you two...human type-thingies are in no position to do anything that doesn't fall under my management, cause if...heheh, I am the _boss _here. It is a small underworld afterall. And I could always...find room for you amongst the deadlings, but I, being the gracious god that I am, have decided to offer you a special contract." He snapped his fiery fingers and snatched out of thin air a, you guessed it, BA-LUE contract which of course, he wanted us to sign right away.

Well, lets say that Miss Aeris Gainsborough isn't the brightest crayon in the industrial sized box. She was about the sign her name away before I snatched the pen, cause you know, I'm a gentleman like that. Okay, so I was afraid that her stupidity might land me in hot water. I took it and read it, down to the extra fine print which required a high-power microscope. I think I got the gist of it. Something about siding with that idiot Ansem for some stupid take over the world job-the idea of course he stole from me- and delivering to and using Miss Gainsborough to trick my precious little puppe- I mean...Cloud. Apparently...Cloud is looking for his "light" or something. And of course they assume this light of his a Aerith. Don't make me laugh. But I'm not one to object. And in exchange for all this, we get our lives back. Or rather become "alive" seeing as I severely doubt that either of us really had lives to begin with.

"So. Yeah. So, I want you two guys to, you know, team up on this project. It makes it all easier right? You do your thing."

Aeris nodded enthusiastically as she scribbled her initials on the paper without shame. I stared at it for a moment, seeing as I was handing my fate over to an incompetent so-called "God", who couldn't run a proper underworld. I still think that I would have been quite happier as a dead person, however fate seemed determined to screw me over. Still does.

"And by the way," the blue two-faced-god-from-literal-hell added, his yellowish eyes gleaming with something overly-malevolent, "I shouldn't need to remind you that until you finish the job, you really aren't _alive, _per say. I mean you have your soul and animated body, but yes. Full rights to your lives shall be handed over in full later. So I wouldn't be trying to sneak off or do anything...shady."

Aeris giggled delightedly. "Isn't this wonderful? Sephiroth! Don't you see we have been forgiven by the gods!" She truly could not have looked happier if the paper she had just signed was a wedding document involving Cloud and/or Zack. However, I did not expect the sudden burst of joy that caused the pink-clad woman to throw herself at me and become attatched. It was to jovial looking to be merely be called a "hug". "The gods forgive you Sephiroth, so I do too! From here on out, we're going to be _bestest _friends!"

No man has ever suffered nightmares compared to my reality.

Aeris skipped towards the exist to mortal world, overcome with joy, leaving me in a petrified state of horror, disgust, shock and wonder. Hades chuckled. It made me want to rip his face up. Hehehe. He's lipless, toothy mouth pulled into something akin to a smirk, and stated bluntly. "I know it's temping, but don't stab her. Again."

* * *

So, that is how I came to my present situation. Idiot woman in pink, crappy room in Greek hotel, annoying one wing with feathers that make me sneeze. Damn one-winged-angel Latin theme song of doom. A healthy rendition of "I'm too sexy" would have done pleasantly. But nooo. I'm stuck with the useless single appendage. What's the use of one wing anyway? I sigh. Fate is cruel. It goes without saying that our mission is having little success. 

As I fade off into my inner reminiscing/musing I can here the annoying buzz which is Aeris rambling on about something, most likely involving what she thinks would be a lovely color scheme for her and her beloved's wedding. If she asks me what I think about it one more time, I think I'll scream "The only party of your's I'll ever attend is your _funeral_ you evil witch! And then I'll dye my mourning cloths pink to spit on your image!". But I shall, for now, put myself in that happy place which, in pieces, becomes increasingly harder to find as it hides in the depths of my mind.

"Did you hear what I said?"

Happy place gone.

I growl.

"What?" I ask, not entirely, if at all, interested.

"I said 'Did you hear what I said?'" Aeris pointed out dumbly.

Of course I heard that moron. That's why I said 'what'. My outer voice says, "What was it that I was meant to have heard you say?"

She sighs, as if I am the one who is so thoroughly exasperating, twisting a strand of her hair around her finger. "I said, I'm considering changing my name to 'Aerith'. What do you think?". What.the.fuck. She tore me from my happy place for this. A two letter change in her name that makes it sound like she's developing a lisp? I'm going to throttle you!

"Sounds nice, go with it if you want."

Well...doesn't she look happy. Really. "Oh! Thank you! You're so sweet," she says, as I suppress the need to gag and remind her that I once endeavored to destroy everything thing, tortured and killed many who she cared about, and personally murdered her. But somehow, I have been forgiven. How, I'm not sure. Vengeance is not in the Aerisian dictionary. Good thing, I can't quite imagine being impaled upon that ridiculous staff she chooses to carry around.

As I find myself being dragged forcefully down my trail of thoughts, something strikes me as odd. "Did you not have something important...Aeri_th_...to say to me, or did the issue concerning your identity qualify?".

Her eyes brighten considerably, which I thought was neither logical nor possible. "Well," she starts then pauses, her smile becoming even more impish as she rocks back and forth on her heals. Her behavior is like saying 'I bought you a really cool birthday present but _I'm _not telling you what it iiiiisssssss.' Trust, the suspense is killing me. "I was in Traverse Town..." Dirty, filthy town full of illegal aliens and moogles. "...checking up on everybody..." Everybody meaning that wannabe ninja materia thief Yuffie and the leather-clad emotionally-constipated stranger Leonhart. "And I went to the market with Squall..." Stupid emo bishie... "And you'll never guess who I saw walking down the street!"

Oh! I know! A moogle or some other disgusting magical talking animal.

"I saw Cloud!"

Close enough.

"I think he's comming here! To Olympus! Isn't it wonderful?"

"...uh...yes...wonderful...". Indeed.

She continued. "Its gonna be just like old times!". If by 'just like old times' she means me cackling evilly as I both mentally and physically abuse that chocobo-haired nincompoop, oh yes, it shall...

I cursed as I tried fruitlessly to break into the mini-bar. If Cloud was coming, I would need to prepare some good insults.

Somehow I didn't think that 'you cross-dressing son-uva-moogle!' would cut it. Insulting his mother didn't seem all that wise at the moment, seeing as...yeah...my own maternal situation bore better fruit for insulting.

My sword is much longer than yours!

I cackle. That will have to do.

* * *

OO omg... I'm so on not on crack I swear. Where does all this come from you may ask. Well...my lovely evil cousin who causes much inspiration in me, a night of reading out loud the most retardedly funny FF7 fanfics, and a supreme love of the silver-haired-god-bishie known as Sephiroth. I love screwing with his image...hehe.

R&R of you please.


	2. Of Greek Food and Shag Rugs

Dun own squat. Don't own KH, nor FF, nor Sephiroth, though I wish I did. (Pout).

Omg! A second chapter! Certainly an achievement. But I couldn't leave this fic alone.

Yay for OOC goodness!

**-Cloud Hunting Season:**Chapter Two

By: Smiley-chan

Its hard not to admire the city of Olympus. You can be walking down a brightly lit street bustling with merchants and overpriced Greek restaurants (plaster-pillars with cherubs playing with weapons, grape-vine motif, the like) and without warning, smash your face into the nearly vertical cliff of the unclimable and hostile Mt. Olympus. A ring of threatening storm clouds hovers around its peak like a deceiving halo. And above this veil, it is rumored that Zues and the other inbred gods of these people live in luxury condos, sip fine wine, and watch mortals suffer on plasma screens. Needless to say, I wish I could join them. Minus the incest.

This is exactly what I begin to think as I am once again forced to spend my time with this plink-clad-happy-pill-on-legs-turned-_bestest_-gal-friend. It is meal time and I admit( begrudingly) that I am still mortal and need to consume dead life-forms to function. When Aerith caught on to this, she literally dragged me to the closest, busiest and loudest Greek restaurant. Im not really a fan of the environment, nor it of me. I swear, they were all staring at me so hard, that they might as well thrown their eyeballs at me and screamed 'Get the hell out of this fine establishment, you evil black-clad goth! Leave us to our freshly laundered togas!' They didnt actually say this of course. All they did was look at me. Oh, but they wanted to.

The waitresses dont seem to mind though. One in particular (the name tag said Hiya! My name is ANLETHIAN). She has the special ability to make me feel violated simply by taking our order the way she does. I shiver.

It has already been two weeks since we received our mission. Within the first few days I had considered preforming ritual suicide (with whatever object, sharp or dull, was within reach) and go hang with my old military friend Zack while floating down the river Styx. My hopes were crushed when I discovered that I was apparently not _allowed _to die. It struck after I sat there a few minutes wondering why I wasnt... bleeding. Damn you Hades. Damn you to that...hell...you live in...wow. That was brilliant.

This curse I figure, was meant to work in several different ways. The first obviously to prevent me from escaping this torture through means of self-destruction, and to ensure that no matter now many times I am beaten silly over the head with a blunt keyblade (whatever the hell that happens to be), I wont receive a concussion. Either way, I begin to regret ever laying a pen to that contract. When once again I carry my own life in my hands, I will take great pleasure in slaying every being that made this trip worse living hell. Aerith, then Cloud, the punk "ninja" who jacked my materia, "Leon" for reasons yet to be revealed, Mother, that sonuvabitch Ansem, Foul talking magical animals. The list has grown far to long.

The food finally arrives, and Aeriths eyes sparkle with a kind of avarice I have not even seen in myself. Fact I did not previously know about the Abominable Aerith. It has a voracious appetite. No joke. How much crap she puts down is disturbing to say the least. Disgusting. However, I have seen the bright side, and keep hoping that shell stab herself with that shish-kabob stick she just finished off so spectacularly.

I am spared her incessant chatter seeing as her mouth is sufficiently full for the moment, and she possesses the bare civility not to speak with her mouth full. I have a brief period of time to meditate over issues and events of the day, which trust me, I wish I didnt have to ponder about.

It was only this morning that a rare and faint spark of curiosity drove me to explore the habitat that I am living in. As I expected there wasnt anything much to see, unless of course dirt happens to interest you. However, as I passed through several stages of extreme boredom, I gathered from many sources (meaning gossipy teenagers who dont know how to lower their voices) that there was some kind of 'Coliseum' a mile away. Watching a bunch of losers sissy-fight eachother. Oh joy. But seeing as entertainment is hardly common, Im wasnt in much of a position to pass anything up. Perhaps I would find some kind of challenge, or find a clue that would bring me one step closer to taking a match to thatsatanic contract I am under.

As I approached this building, I began to recall chocobo corrals that inspired more awe. A sign was nailed to the wall. Written in greek, then translated in smaller print were the words- Welcome to the Olympus Coliseum: Communal Battle Arena of the Worlds Most Prestigious Heroes.

...Whatever. For such a great place, its a bit of a dump.

"Hey, Sephy-boy, hows it hangin?"

Its rather bad for your teeth to grind them, but I found myself doing it anyway. "Fine, or at least it was."

Hades chuckled, and I was reminded of how much I wished he wasnt immortal. "Hey, I thought it would all be going good, considering your rep. But hey, the quality of villains these days, they just dont make em like they used to, eh Seph?"

Twitch.

"I was just in here, causing a little mischief. Checking up on another on of my employees-"

Another mortal harassed into a contract. A few more of these and we can have a _we-hate-hades club. _I can tell you who would be the president.

"-stupid pineapple-headed kid. His hair probably does more damage than his sword-."

Gracious, does _that _remind me of someone I know.

"-and getting little kids killed by giving them passes into the tournament. Take it from me kid, having no conscience is a blast."

...youre telling me...

"Which reminds me." The disturbing blue being reached into the folds of his toga and pulled out what looked similar to a blue pamphlet. "You'll be wanting this for the tournament."

Why I'd want a piece of paper thats been in some guys cloths is beyond me. This might have been why I stood there for a moment and just stared at Hades like he was the idiot I knew him to be.

"What does this paper allow me to accomplish", I asked impatiently. Hades pretended to not have heard me, seemingly engrossed in picking something out of his ear with those talon-like fingers.

"Weelll, Seph. I do expect you to win this thing by a landslide. Ill be ever so disappointed if not." The change of subject was not so easily missed. "Smell ya later."

And with that, he disappeared in a twirl of blue smoke.

...What the hell?

If it was possible, I had begun to trust Hades even less. I stared at the sky wondering if Zues was watching all my suffering. That's it, Zues goes on my fucking list. Why arent you using your God-dom to do something productive? Use your incest-induced powers to smite your evil useless brother. SMITE hiiiiiiiiim.

I hadn't realized that I had vocalized these extreme thoughts, until a few feet away a small child began to cry uncontrollably. His mother gave me a furtive glace, and ushered her toddler away. At this moment I pretended to be interested in the list of competitors until they were far out of site. There was a ridiculous amount of heartless teams. Heartless arent that intelligent. I dont see how they get all the way up to the second seed. Then again, the human competitors can't be all that intelligent either, seeing as they drag themselves up to this dung-heap every morning to bash a whole bunch of heartless.

I nearly skipped over it, as it was buried under the thousands of heartless groups for one reason or another. I could almost feel the beginnings of an almost smile and my shallow heart gave a tiny leap. One more thing that has made my life a little less difficult. Cloud Strife, participating in this rookie competition? Of all the dumb luck. Yeah sure. That's one huge coincidence.

Well, the time was least looking forward to came as I decided that it was a good time to actually...go inside. As I pushed open the doors, the opposite door swung open revealing what appeared to me as a walking shag rug.

I wasnt to far off either. Except shag rugs show a lot more emotion than this rock. This rug is named "Squall". Or "Leon" depending on whether or not you about damaging his precious emo heart.

Sarcasm kills.

He stared blankly at me, like I was a mere poke in his perpetually mundane little life. Sue me, I stared back. What the hell else are you supposed to do? I know how to play this game well.

He blinked.

My inner voices cheer, for I the Great Sephiroth, have triumphed.

I think it is a good thing that he and I come from separate worlds. First off, because around here, no one really has gotten a whiff of my...reputation. I dont need two protagonists on my tail. Second, there would be an ongoing battle of the bishies. Cause lets face it, for all his stupid emo-headedness, his constipation of expression-

Hes the second sexiest thing on this floating rock.

And he knows it.

Kekeke. But not as sexy as me.

Okay...why was he still staring at me. Doesn't he have some kind of place he needs to be? Like a place where emos and beatniks gather? If not, then he needs to high-tail it out of here, before I have a nervous breakdown. I feel like Im about to get jumped, and that can be a very scarring experience. I don't think I could handle it.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "...I know you..."

Gasp! Its speaks. Speak again emo shag-rug!

"Do you." I respond dully.

He raised an eyebrow then smirked slightly. "No."

Uh...wait a moment, did I miss something? Either my brain temporarily went into hibernation (which it happens to do on occasion) or this Leon thing...did something confusing.

It seemed that Leon became slightly amused (or something) upon seeing what would be my perplexed expression. With a small flick, he used the back of his hand to send strands of mahogany fly through the air and back into his eyes. The action was repeated. Having finished, he smirked, taking his leave.

...was that a challenge Leonhart? Do you seriously think you can out-sexy me?

I HOPE YOU GET SQUASHED BY A FAT CHOCOBO MR. I-CAN-DOUBLE-FLIP-MY HAIR-SQUALL-"LEON"-SHAGRUG-LEONHART!

He spun around, his eyebrows crinkled in confusion.

Did I say that out loud?

:)yes...rr, ne? Man, this chapter was short. I think I'll make the next one longer. Thank you to my beloved reviewers:

manyissues101- thanx X3 Squall is emotionally constipated.

Princess Leo- lol. don't die over there.

RedCrow1120- hehe. Thank you. lol. Its Yosemite Sam! XD actually, you have no idea how many times me and my cousin went around saying "Be vewy vewy quiet! I'm hunting Cwouds!"

Lain of the Weird- :D muchos gracias.

DragonRose13- "I KNOW! WE CAN POP THEM" D

shale101- arigatou.

boredperson- tanku.


	3. Of Barrels and General Depravity

Hi loves. Yeah, I regret not updating sooner. I know some of you asked about this fic. The truth is that I saved this chapter on a thumb drive and it basically dropped into a black hole or something, cause I can't find it. I had the first unedited page or so on my laptop, so I ended up rewriting the thing. Shame tho. It's not as funny as the original in my humble opinion. So yeah, sorry for the delay.

I apologize in advance for typos/grammatical errors. And I own nothing.

-**Cloud Hunting Season:** Chapter 3

By: Smiley-chan

I am poked.

I am poked once again.

And for the third and final time I am poked before I come to my senses and attempt to bite off the offending hand. Not really. But I do pride myself in a glare that can burn through steel...not really. I glance down and noticed that I had once again drifted off into the molasses sea of my thoughts. I know this because Aerith is finished with her humongous portion and half of mine is gone.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks, while daintily patting her lips with a napkin.

Funny, she recognizes the though process though it often seems that she doesn't put it to good use.

Oh, nothing much really, just how I regret coming back to life. Actually, lets go a bit further back. I regret meeting Mother, and lets say that it would be better had I not been born at all. I was also thinking that it would be fun to drown Hades in the River Styx. I would be rather pleased to watch the god eternally suffer as wrathful souls of his underworld drag him to the bottom of its watery depths.

"Nothing."

She raises an eyebrow, and gets this weird quirky smile on her face. Its like 'I know what you're trying to hide.' She doesn't know. But it makes me wonder if I have anything for her to know.

"Oh, then _who _are you thinking about?" she asks, and the ravenous yaoi fan girl look makes an even scarier second appearance. Wow. It probably doesn't help that I was also thinking that providing there was a healthy breeze and my hair was cooperating with me, I could brake _Leon_'s psyche and send him home crying like the woman he is. But if I told her this she would find ways to misinterpret it.

She always does you see. For someone who is meant to serve as a pure, healer-type heroine, she's really a closet-pervert who will turn any random phrase or word into a sexual innuendo. Observe.

"Flower girl."

"Yes?"

"...Salad Fork."

She giggles, hiding her mouth behind her hand. "Tee-hee. _Salad _fork." She goes on for a couple more seconds, and then winks. "Ah, I see."

I'm just going to sit here and pretend that I understand what the hell is going through her pink little brain, even though I can't possibly begin to comprehend what salad forks have to do with anything besides stabbing salad leafs. Apparently she knows.

The bill comes and because I am the one who wears the pants in this duo (although some fanfic writers would care to disagree), I am the one to dump one of those gigantic 'munny' pieces on the table that I technically shouldn't be able to even lift. I got this hunk of crap when I ran into a defender heartless before coming to the restaurant. It shot a fireball into my head, to be specific, my hair. Fire + Sephy's hair no happy Sephy. Let's say for a heartless that was supposed to have a high defense, it stood not a chance.

…Ahem…well, anyway, I believe I have gotten off-topic. Before I start spontaneously rambling again, I should probably finish my story about the Coliseum. After my encounter with Leon Bunny-hart, which left me in an unhappy mood as many things tend to do, it took me a couple of seconds to realize why I was standing outside the stupid Coliseum in the first place. I had been planning to go in, hadn't I? I was in the due course of being free to maim, bitch-stab, obliterate, have sex with (etc.) any damn person I wanted. That contract will burn in the very unholy fires from which it originated.

As you might have been able to surmise, I thought it would be a pretty good idea to just go inside the filthy place. But as I pushed the doors open, I stood there and stared with which must have been the most bewildered look I've ever worn.

"Common Phil...! I am a hero!"

Okay, it was freaky. Not frightening, just plain weird. What stood in front of me was what Avalanche would have looked like had it been shrunk to a trio and junked up on cartoon steroids. There was a twitchy white-feathered duck that obviously had nothing better to do than shriek in unintelligible English. It just wouldn't _shut up_. Near by was this...thing. I don't even know what to say about it, besides that it resembled in scary ways one of Hojo's experiments and that its IQ must have been an astounding sum of three. I learned later that it was supposed to resemble a dog...but anyway. It was staring into the air with a vacant expression, only adding a thick-tongued comment when the room had grown too silent.

But the last thing would have made me laugh out loud if that was in my character. The ring-leader of this group was a scrawny teenager who looked like he had barely hit puberty. His bottom lip was jutted out in what seemed to be a pout, and I would have mistaken him for a girl if his voice hadn't been cracking while he whined at a stumpy little satyr at his feet. I closed the door behind me and stood in the corner pondering why it was that no one had noticed me...Seeing as I'm kind of hard to miss.

The kid produced a blue pamphlet from his pocket at waved it in the goat's face. "See?" he exclaimed. "I've got a pass. You gotta let me in!" The satyr named Phil looked really confused.

Chances were I too looked something like that. Didn't that incompetent oaf Hades say something about giving a pass to some kid? I probably missed the body of that conversation. I was too busy contemplating the odds of the dunce suddenly turning mortal so that the whole God position would be open. That was putting my standards a little low, but one has to start somewhere I suppose.

The goat-man, heaving a defeated sigh, said, "Well...I guess I gotta let you in, eh?" The overjoyed teenager flashed a thousand-watt smile that made my inner darkness shriek and go into hiding. He and his animal circus skipped through the doors and into danger like it was a field of bunnies and flowers. Phil scowled. I'm sure I did something similar.

Finally rid of the obnoxious brat, the satyr looked my way. "Who tha heck're you?" he asked unceremoniously. "You don't look like no hero."

Goat man, you have _no _idea.

But I digress. "I was told you were the one too talk to in order to..." I paused, biting down the urge to vomit. "Enter this...tournament-ish event."

It looked as if Phil had heard this a thousand times before. "You got the paperwork?" Looks like even pigsties are bureaucratic nightmares.

Alright, so this is where it gets difficult. I had placed the whutchamadoodle (eloquent, I know) that Hades had handed me into my trench coat. This piece of clothing ranks among the wonders of the world such as couch cushions and driers. Meaning if something goes in, it may never come out again. So, I took the plunge. A bag of Doritos, a lava lamp, and an overdue copy of A Walk to Remember later, my instincts told me I was getting close.

A blue, humanoid arm flopped lifelessly on the floor.

I stared at it and then at the goat man. He stared at it and then stared at me.

"Erm..."

I picked the limb up, stuffing it back into my coat and muttered a quick apology to my mother. Within another couple of seconds, I pulled out a blue pamphlet.

Was this the blasted thing that Hades gave me?

With a squeak, the thing emitted a puff of blue smoke that smelled of brimstone and cheap cologne.

Likely.

The stubby being took the paperwork from me and then crinkled an eyebrow that was in good need of plucking. "It says here that ya wanna take over the platinum match."

"...Whatever."

What a fantastic response! But really, what do you say to someone when you have no clue what the hell they are talking about?

"Those are some pretty big shoes to fill. Ares, god of war, used to be the opponent in that match."

"Out of curiousity, why doesn't Ares host that match any longer?" I inquired.

"Er..." the thing started. "I think it was...like, a genetic disease or somethin."

I would have laughed psychotically if the timing had been right. Take that, you Olympian cur! I knew incest would bit you in the ass some day!

"You got any experience?" Phil asked, and I nearly snorted.

I was the greatest flipping general who ever lived. No need for the cavalry, tanks, or nukes. I'll take care of it. I got a sequel and a cameo in this retard universe.

But no, not much.

"I think I can handle it. If you don't believe me, perhaps you could provide some kind of..." I paused, because the idea was seriously ridiculous, "test."

Scruffy scratched his chin. "Well, I guess."

Oh goody. Like there wasn't a huge part of me that hoped that you'd just say no. Here's my wish that I get some kind of challenge out of this.

Yeah, yeah, I know. But one can dream can't they?

"What kind of challenge would you have for me?" You know, I was thinking a poison blooded hydra or two, all five titans in the ring at the same...

"Barrels."

Barrels, that sounds goo- wait. Hold up. Excuse me, my inner voice says.

"Excuse me?" I say, my voice threateningly low for even my baritone. Phil looked up, and raised an eyebrow like I was another scrawny, toga-clad wannabe.

"What are ya, some kinda prima Dona? You start out breaking barrels like the rest of 'em." He waved a clipboard at me in a way that may have been intimidating had it not been...me. "If you beat the set limit, you can move on to the prelims. If you beat the record...well, you'll be on your way to better things."

I must have been gaping. But...but I _am_ a Prima Dona! I'm pretty and kickass! Your barrels have got nothing on me. Resisting the urge to pout like the prepubescent child who was probably out there breaking barrels, I did my best not to impale the satyr where he stood.

That was so not fair.

"Life aint fair."

...I really have to learn to keep my inner voices silent.

With my ego sufficiently bruised for the time being, I followed stumpy out into the arena. The shattered boards of a dozen or so barrels littered the floor.

I spotted the kid on the sidelines. He wore the most idiotic grin I'd ever seen and I wondered in passing if he was always happy or if some horrible face trauma had frozen his features that way.

He kept on grinning right as he was exiting the arena. A shudder passed over me. Really now, what was with all the happy? What happened to the days when these spikey-haired protagonists were emo and potentially suicidal? Psh. Kids these days.

Obviously, my presence is still not as imposing at it used to be. No one noticed me. How I know this?

"Oomph!"

That is the noise that a child with ADD makes after barreling into the Sephiroth that he didn't see. The kid landed on his ass and I couldn't help the slight smile for the mere reason that his grin slipped for a split second. He blinked for a moment, until his recognized that there was an actual person there.

"Oh! Hi!" he grinned again. Smile gone. "Sorry, didn't see you."

"Apparently," I answered. He didn't quite pick up on my annoyance.

He waited for his group of cartoon animals to catch up and grinned wider. "Are you here to enter the tournament."

No, I just hang around this place for kicks. "Providing that I can break a few barrels."

In a completely reassuring tone, he answered, "I don't worry! It's easy, especially if you have some kind of sword." This is when I looked down.

"What the hell is that?"

Oh, darn. Another spontaneous outburst. But really now, what the hell is that? It wasn't even a sword. It was like...a key. What kind of damage does he expect to do with that thing? I suspect the same effect could be obtained by bludgeoning someone in the back of the head with a metal baseball bat.

I couldn't help it. It was so cheesy, but...I had to ask: "So...what does that do, defeat door-shaped heartless?"

He sort of gave this half-smile awkward look that suggested that I was the one making no sense, when he, in fact, was the one hefting some useless key around. This is when his exasperating feathery side-kick chose to interject.

"Squack keyblade quack door quack worlds quack squwak quack, okay?"

Okay...?

"Yeah...long story," the kid said, rubbing the back of his spiky head. "Anyway, like I was saying. Good luck with the barrels. I got into the prelims myself, but it'll take a lot of practice for me to beat Leon's record."

It was my turn to grin and this may have been the reason that the kid backed away suddenly and went running down the hall. Leon's record? I could beat that...

Speak of the devil. Enter Emo McGirlpants.

Wait. Should I be concerned that he just left?

Ha! No. This universe is riddled with to many plot holes for me to sort them out now.

He looked up from his feet for a moment, which surprisingly weren't clad in sharpie covered converse or something equally as homosexual. _'Like knee-length leather boots?'_ my inner voices sneered. My inner voices then got their asses smeared into the ground by a little friend I like to call my inner contempt.

Leonhart stared warily, probably afraid that that I'd sling another nonsensical-yet-endearingly-disturbing insult his way. "Oh, it's _you_," he said in the most pathetically apathetic voice I have ever heard. For a moment, one would be able to imagine that he once suffered some kind of horrible tragedy, where he was unable to save that which he cared the most about. Perhaps this is what he hides behind a mask of indifference.

Yeah, sure.

Go home Leonhart. Listen to Evanescence and cut yourself.

"What _is _your name, anyway?" he asked.

"Sephiroth."

He narrowed his eyes. "Sounds sinister."

My inner voices were revived and giggled like a school girl.

"Thank you."

Releasing yet another detached, emo sigh, he returned his attention to his feet and trudged onwards. Asshole, didn't offer his name. Learn some fucking manners. Then again, he must have figured that I already knew it, seeing as screamed it at him in combination with a number of my own creative obscenities less than a half an hour before then.

"Well," he muttered. "Good luck beating the _new _record." He sniffed dejectedly, and for a moment, it looked as if he might have actually started to cry.

I raised an eyebrow. "I thought you held the record."

"Meh."

I see. So someone else already sucked the fun out of life.

Stepping out into the arena, I was ready to show those barrels who was boss.

The final boss, to be precise.

TBC!

* * *

Note: I have nothing against Converse or Evanescence. XD

_Thanks very much to my reviewers: _Lady Ven'n, Aquila Strife, Riku54- Vincent's Demon, Nightfire45, and special thanks to FantasyFanatic1 (cause it made me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Lolz)

Reviews please.


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